Thursday, May 23, 2013

The Process...

Coming out is rarely a one step action. Sure, we sometimes read about the Big Bang, bursting out of the closet, blurting at the Thanksgiving table, then climbing to the roof and screaming it for all to hear, coming out stories- but that rarely happens. And even for those who do rip the band-aid off of the proverbial wound in such a grand fashion, there are always the people that they meet after the fact- the future co-workers, friends, and others who, because of societal expectations will always assume the straightness of everyone they meet. So, for essentially all of us who have been blessed with a homosexual orientation, coming out is an ongoing process regardless of when we took that first step out of the closet.

For some of us, this process is slower than it is for others. I am a 31 year old man, and there are still 3 people that matter to me, that I have yet to tell that I'm gay. My father, my grandfather (as you may remember, my grandmother passed away in October), and my brother. The rest of my immediate family- my mother and other brother are both incredibly supportive. I have justified my secrecy for various reasons, depending on the individual. My grandparents were the sticking point. When I came out to my mother, she echoed my thoughts- that my grandparents cannot find out. Since my father is close to my grandparents, my mother thought it best that I not tell him yet, either. My dad has the ability to keep a secret akin to a teenage girl who just got the juiciest gossip and an unlimited texting plan for her new iPhone. Out of respect for her, I have not yet told him. As for my brother... honestly, if he hasn't figured it out by now, he's an idiot. His wife is very conservative, and they have two beautiful kids that are a big part of my life. I used to worry that my being gay would give her cause to not allow me to see them. But times are changing, and they are changing fast and I've seen this change in attitude slowly happen with my sister-in-law.

I'm getting really tired. I'm tired of hiding. I literally only have three toes still in the closet, but those three toes... those three tiny, but very important toes are keeping me from running free- from doing the things with my life that I want to do. My art, my writing, my performing, my fucking mark on the world... I can't make it if I remain chained to that soul-draining closet door.

I can see my whole future lying directly in front of me, just waiting for me to run full blast into it's infinite horizon...

...and I am utterly terrified to take that last step out of that door.

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